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Chapter Eighteen
“Come inside,” my mother said as Ellis grabbed my bag where it lay on the ground, abandoned by Wicked. I felt just like that shapeless sack spilling out on the snow.
She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and touched my cheek. “Did he hurt you? Did he—” she cut off, casting a side glance to Ellis and my father as if the question was too ghastly to ask in their delicate male presence.
“No. It wasn’t like that. I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” At least not physically, I didn’t add, the pit in my chest throbbing.
We went inside, the scents of the kitchens and the warmth of the lit hearths enveloping me in a familiar embrace. My mother held my hand the entire way up to my room, where a hot bath was being drawn.
I went through the motions, bathing, eating, and readying myself for bed. As the sun fell, I cast a look out my window, yearning for a small, shabby room in the heart of a broken-down castle.
Wicked would be cooking for me right now, something hearty and nourishing. When we were done, he’d pull me onto his lap and kiss me and touch me in a way that made my eyelashes flutter and my chest fill with light. When Ellis bid me good night and told me we’d resume preparations for the wedding, I feared no one would ever make me feel that way again.
“That sounds wonderful. I’m so happy,” I said to him, our hands clasped as I swallowed the sour bite of the lies that tripped off my tongue.
For weeks, I moved about the castle like a ghost seeking its final resting place while preparations for the wedding drew into full swing. At night, I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, my opulent bed the last place I wanted to sleep.
It was the night before I was to be wed when I slid out from the covers, pulled on my lush velvet robe, and sat by the window, peering into the shadows of the forest.
The moon was high; the snow reflecting a luminous glow against the sky.
A movement in the trees caught my attention. With my nose nearly pressed to the glass, I watched it. I knew that shape. The breadth of those shoulders and the cadence of those steps. My breath kicked up, striking me in the chest.
I didn’t stop to think. I stuffed my feet into my boots and then pulled on my cloak and sprinted through the castle. A numbing blast of cold greeted me when I emerged into the night and headed for the spot where I’d seen him.
My breath fogged in the air as I ran, my boots thudding heavily with the pounding of my heart.
“Wicked! Where are you?” Gasps sawing through my chest, I searched the shadows. “I know you’re out here.” I directed a look back at the castle. Sentinels would be keeping watch over the grounds. If I remained in sight, wearing my nightgown, and shouting into the forest, someone would alert the king, eventually. “I saw you!”
I plunged deeper into the trees, the darkness closing around me like a fist. “Please. Wicked.”
Finally, a form melted from the gloom, taking the shape of my desire. He wore his great fur cloak, his hair loose and blowing in the breeze. He was beautiful and brutal, and the sight of him sliced through every layer of feigned emotion I’d been building.
“Go back inside, Rowan.” His voice bore the texture of smoke and secrets. He came closer, moonlight reflecting off his strong jaw and high cheekbones. His dark eyes flashed, his mouth set into a grim line. “That’s where you belong.”
“What are you doing out here?” I pulled my cloak tighter, my teeth chattering. My feet were bare inside my boots, and the cold seeped in from the earth.
“Nothing.” His face was tense as his gaze darted to the sentries posted on the battlements. I rolled my eyes.
“You’re obviously lying.” I stepped closer, only inches separating us. My body drew closer to his like the sky pulling on the stars. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Wicked stepped back, putting distance between us. Refusing to let it hurt, I took a step closer. “What are you doing here?”
“Go back inside, Princess.”
“Tell me why you threw me out. Why you wanted to be rid of me so quickly after everything we shared? That meant something to me. Did it mean nothing to you?” My voice cracked, pain bleeding out between the syllables.
His jaw clenched, his eyes blazing. “No. It meant nothing.” I swallowed as the burn of his words traveled down my throat and squatted in my gut. “Go back inside, Princess.”
“No,” I said, sure I detected the same flavor of the lies I’d been telling myself for weeks. Sure he hadn’t been faking everything he’d said and done. “I won’t go back inside until you talk to me.”
“Then I’m leaving,” he said, turning his back and stalking into the forest.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily!” He didn’t stop, walking deeper and deeper into the woods as I trailed him like a persistent shadow. “Come back here!”
Finally, he stopped and whirled so quickly I crashed straight into his bulk and nearly toppled over. “Go back home,” he snarled, his teeth gritted. But it wasn’t fury in his eyes. It was panic and fear and an unmistakable tremor of longing.
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me!”
“Go home!” he roared. “Why do you insist on bothering me?”
His words were intended to be a slap, but I countered back, prodding at the tender places he refused to acknowledge.
“Because I love you, you asshole!” The declaration was a gauntlet thrown. One I hadn’t even realized I’d been clutching. “I’m going to help you capture that ogre, and I’ll carve out its heart myself.” I stepped closer, my hands fisting into the thick collar of his cloak. “And if that beast dies before I can do that, then I’ll stay in this forest with you forever. Do I make myself clear?”
Wicked’s eyes darkened, his pupils flaring into dark black pits of nothing, and he let out a whoosh of air like I’d lifted up my foot and kicked him straight in the stomach. He seemed to bend in on himself as he folded, when a noise in the leaves summoned our attention.
A bulk moved toward us, shadowed by the darkness. It was huge—even taller than Wicked and built like a barrel with arms and legs. Dark green skin glistening in the moonlight, its back was hunched and its hands were the size of church bells. It didn’t look like it could move very fast, but it was probably best not to underestimate it.
“Fuck,” Wicked said, shoving me behind him as he drew his sword. “Run back to the Castle, Rowan. Now.” He snarled at the ogre as it lumbered closer, its beady black eyes glittering.
I remembered what Wicked had told me. That the ogre would be mindless with want for my blood. Maybe we could use that to our advantage. “I’m going to draw it away from you, and you attack it from behind. It’ll follow me. You said it wouldn’t be able to resist.”
He looked back at me, his expression thunderous. “No. Absolutely not.”
“On the count of three,” I said, gripping the back of his cloak, digging in my heels and preparing to run.
“Rowan, no!”
“Three...two...”
“I swear to the gods, I’m going to lock you back in my cage if you do this.”
“One!” I bolted, the ogre’s head swinging my way as I ran as fast as I could. I heard Wicked yelling after me but didn’t look back as I wove through the dense trees, hearing the rustle and snapping of branches. After everything, I trusted him. I knew Wicked would do anything to protect me. And if he failed, then there was no point to this life without him.
I didn’t need to see to know the ogre was right behind me. I could feel its hot, fetid breath on the back of my neck right before a hand snagged the back of my cloak, tearing it from my shoulders. When the clasp pinched the delicate skin on my throat, I cried out, but I didn't stop ru
My feet crunched in the snow, branches snagging on my nightgown, the icy air whipping through the fabric and tearing at my hair. “Wicked!” I screamed, sure he had to be close.
The ogre lunged, an arm banding around my waist before it lifted me in the air, and I belted out an ear-piercing scream. I kicked and flailed, trying to land a solid blow somewhere it might matter. But the ogre was steel and sinew, and it squeezed me so tight, I couldn’t suck air into my lungs.
I struggled against its hold, my vision darkening when I heard a crunch, followed by a sickening squelch, and then the ogre’s hold slackened before we both collapsed into a heap on the ground. I screamed and tried to get the monster off me, its weight crushing me to the earth.
A moment later, Wicked was at my side. With a heave, he lifted the body of the beast enough that I could slip out and back away. Wicked’s sword stuck out of its back, like an offering to the sky.
“You killed it,” I said, my eyes wide with wonder and fear.
Wicked’s eyes floated shut, and he let out a sigh so long it sounded like he’d been keeping it bound for centuries. He seemed to be in shock as he moved, pulling out the sword and then flipping the ogre on to its back. Its eyes were dull, staring at the starry sky.
He pulled out his dagger and leaned over the beast before he paused, contemplating it.
“Do you want me to do it?” I asked, knowing he needed the heart. I didn’t want to slice it out, but I had sworn I would just a few minutes earlier. He shook his head, and I tried not to show my relief as he dropped to a knee and executed the grisly task.
Pulling out a cloth from his cloak, he extracted the glistening heart from the ogre’s chest and wrapped it up.
“Now what?”
“I need to eat it,” he said, and I wrinkled my nose.
“Wow, your brother really hated you.” Neither of us smiled at my failed attempt to lighten the mood as our gazes met.
“I need to get back to the castle.”
“I’ll come with you.” I stalked back through the forest, finding my discarded cloak and wrapping it over my shoulders. He seemed like he wanted to argue, but I held up a hand. “I’m coming. Don’t even bother trying to stop me.”
He pressed his mouth together, grunting in response. “Get on my back and hold tight.” He bent down so I could do as he asked and then, without another word, we raced into the night.